


Hide and Seek

by orphan_account



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-26
Updated: 2017-08-26
Packaged: 2018-12-20 02:55:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11911743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: She hid, he seeked.





	Hide and Seek

She was a secrets hider; and she playing in a game of hide and seek. A hider whose spring smiles blossom over the unsightly weeds in her serene aviary where mockingbirds and ravens cry alike to a melody in which she orchestrated whilst sitting at her garden table, drinking her chrysanthemum tea. The crisp chirps of songbirds followed closely by the harrowing harks of grim omens just just as the rambunctious rapport of nonchalance life brings to the world constitutes to the hollow rings of church bells bring forth death to its hymn listeners. A manifestation of the two conjoined in one entity, she was sweet purity transmogrified with the epitome of epitaphs. ‘Open your eyes.’ A deep exhale, then entropy ensues.

He was an attention seeker; and he was playing in a game of hide and seek. A seeker for the truth to his fable spun tapestry, thick as carpet and rough as straw, he stood his ground gingerly at the end of the corridor. Equipped with nothing more than a flamed torch, he reasoned with himself. Outside were the wolves, solitary hunters of packs driven by craze at the slight scent of blood; creatures of the moon whose plight for justice was of a more decrepit calibre, whose actions followed under another moonshine, known as vengeance. Being their alpha, all eyes stared back for the order, and from eye locks with the crowds, it seemed the masses were growing impatient. ‘Close your eyes.’ A sharp inhale, then equilibrium ensues.

The rules of the game were easy; run, hide, stop, nothing else to it. She was to flutter away from her picture palace till the heaving of lethargic lungs dragged her back down to ground level; the bird that cannot fly. There was no place of welcome, not the home behind her nor the home destiny had awaiting her. There was no place for a nomad, an unruly fugitive. Her final decision seemed extra out of the ordinary for the simple observer, alas, they raised internal bedlam for the one person who should have understood. She was not a speaker for her voice was no more than background static. None were turned toward her for she was an accompanist to the heavenly concerto, no more than a sugarcoated divulger of the bittersweet. She was no more than another page, another sentence, another word in his story, she was the queen.

The rules of the game were easy; count, search, find, nothing else to it. He was to wait there in silence till the sounding of the alarm to his awakening, then he became another one of them; the sheep in wolf’s clothing. Lupine growls from a tame creature, the perfect exemplar of an oxymoron. It was as if he became mad within the hour, gone rogue in the head. There was no constitution or comprehensible trigger for his next actions except for the inference of his subjects that whatever it was, he dealt with out of pure rage. He was not a listener for his tongue had more tenacity than his ear. All eyes were to be on him, all ears were to be listening to him, all voices were to be praising him. He was the sovereign of the rejected, the torchbearer of light despite his emotionally tragic story. Inscribed within the bounded pages of history; he was the king.

There was no place for her to hide, she knew that well, for this was not the first time she had seen the brunt of reality outside the frame of her picturesque oil painting world. She had sneaked outside her chambers to observe the literal diamonds in the sky. It was a never ending cycle of the same weather, forever cascading precipitation in the swamps, a blizzard ever covering roofs with snow peaks in the tundra, and the formidable scorching deserts. She had trekked through all, several times over but alas, a bird can flap their wings all they want around an enclosed room but without a window, it will never be able to fly amongst the clouds once more. That was to be her plight, her absolute resolute.

In the vastness of the underworld, there was more than one place to hide. There was so much more rather than what was bound by his castle walls but it had never occurred to him to surveillance his conquered lands. Places of every cardinal direction stretching beyond the seeable horizon were divisioned with their different biomes. Maintenance was low and the people suffered great losses, causing an unrestful anarchy whilst he lived his unsustainable utopia. These were monsters unlike his wolves, they saw indifference in monarch and tyrant. Scowling as he came close, some snapped their teeth at his calves. The slums was one descriptor but it did not look like pigs would even live there. It was the product of his negligence.

Upon the outskirts town, in the open clearing of the cinder forest, she sought sanctuary in the ruins of an older castle, deserted by folks moving inwards to the catacombs, away from the entrance of the entire underground. As she stood there at the lawn of lush wildflowers, there was only one direction to look from the bottom of the mountainous chasm, the skies above. The sun shone warm, the winds blew cool, the rain fell light, and the moon shone free. If she didn’t over think, she could almost forgotten about the chase. Settled in wait, still bait to be caught... silently savouring everything before the day she would be found.

Yet out of the mess he caught a trail of feathers, distinctly from the unorthodox offspring of a bird from two families. It had the colour of innocence but the firmness of hardships, the rachis weak at the mid-section and the calamus still draining with unwritten ink. He swore by the trail of odd plume, whose fading facade no longer held its former form of a writer’s quill. They were the wings on her crest, the wings of prophecy's angel. He somehow knew, that if he walked the path of her thoughts, constantly gathering and remaking memories of one sided epochs, eventually he would find her... And then in turn, he will become the hider.


End file.
